He usually sits in the red chair beside the fireplace.

I don’t sit too often when I’m home. Most of the time I’m in the kitchen, cooking for my family and sometimes Prairie Bounty, or on the computer writing and replying to emails, or on the phone. Lately Kristen’s been in the kitchen studying for exams. Tim might be there too, drinking a cup of coffee and talking about his day. Medardo and Mauricio will come through and tell me a story. Or a friend may be visiting and we’ll share a cup of tea.

Sometimes I’ll walk past the living room and see him, waiting. I’ll promise him that as soon as I take care of this load of laundry, I’ll come by to spend some time. It’s so easy for me to get distracted though and several hours later, I’ll walk past him again. I might throw a quick prayer his way-“please God, be with my friend who’s going through a hard time, help Kristen while she’s writing her exam, bless my family…”

He just sits there, waiting for me. Not like someone demanding my attention but more like someone who wants to get to know me. Someone who would like nothing better than for me to stop for a moment and rest at his feet.

Finally, I find some time. I lie on the couch as he sits in the chair, his full attention on me. I dare not look into his eyes for they are so full of love and compassion for me, I may lose myself in them. I tell him about all the things that are on my mind. My children, my spouse, my brothers and sisters, parents, my in-laws, nieces, nephews and friends. I pray for George Bush, Stephen Harper and all those other people who have great power. I ask him why he doesn’t do more about AIDS, poverty and injustice.

Finally, I am spent. I have no more words, no requests, no more demands. I know he has listened and has heard me but he says nothing in reply. No answers. All of my words lay in a jumbled heap at his feet.

We sit in silence for a while and the next time I look at him, the floor around him is clear. For the first time in what seems like forever, I look into his eyes, full of unconditional love, compassion and grace. And finally, when I’ve said all I can say, when I am finished, he speaks.

“I love you Linda. You are more precious to me than anything in this world, even more than you love your own children. There is nothing you can do to make me love you more or less. The only thing I want from you is for you to sit with me and allow me to show you how beloved you are. And even if you can’t find the time to do that, I will not love you less.”

And then I walk over to him and sit on his knee, allowing his love to completely wash over me. I lose myself in his eyes knowing I am completely safe with him and that there is nothing I need except to be in his presence.